


Study Break

by easystreets



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, Gen, Gen but could be read as romantic!, S3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:00:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24498328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easystreets/pseuds/easystreets
Summary: They actually do study, okay?
Relationships: Troy Barnes & Annie Edison & Abed Nadir
Comments: 15
Kudos: 39





	Study Break

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!

They actually do study. When they’re not fighting real imaginary battles, or eating samples from Shirley’s kitchen, or helping Pierce set up an Instagram account, or--

The point is, they study, okay? Annie is a straight A student; Abed may somehow relate every assignment he has back to TV, but he does do them, and Troy is surprisingly diligent for someone who’s endured the amount of concussions that he has. Finals are still finals, even if they’re at Greendale. Especially if they’re at Greendale. 

“This doesn’t make sense,” Troy says, on page three of his Calculus review packet. He breaks a piece of led off of his pencil and rubs it back and forth in his hands. They’re in the kitchen, and it’s cramped, but Troy still finds a way to lean his chair back, nearly cracking his skull open on the counter. “None of this makes sense.”

“Yeah, well at least your class has rules.” Annie frowns down at her Intro To Art binder, complete with customized labels that read _Property of Annie Edison,_ with the address of her last apartment inked neatly below it. The old address is scratched out, over it is Troy and Abed’s. Well, her place too, even if it sometimes feels like Troy and Abed run on the same frequency, and she’s just the scratchy noise that her car makes when she switches the radio to AM. “I don’t _wanna_ unleash my creativity.” Hesitantly, she skirts a pencil across the page, and then winces. “I can’t do this!”

Abed shifts off the counter where he’s been sitting, and pulls out three mugs. Spiderman for Troy, of course. A flowery one from Annie’s china set that he reaches for with robotic precision. Abed’s used to be Inspector Spacetime, but over the years, the decal’s faded from daily use. “We need a coffee break.”

* * *

Back in high school, Annie never took breaks. Breaks were for quitters, and quitters never won. Quitters enroll in community college and have a maybe-crush on a guy who is at least a decade older than her. Quitters live with a washed-up quarterback and a boy who, on all levels except physical, lives in a blanket fort full time. 

Oh, that was _mean_. Annie frowns, leans into her empty coffee mug and waits for the water to boil. Life has been super… super weird lately. Sharing an apartment is hard, and being a good friend is too. Things are just strange this year, she guesses. It’s her first full year without a relapse, and that’s been confusing in a way she refuses to name. Add in the stresses of school, and trying to be _chill_ and _relaxed_ and not Little Aderall Annie, again, and well, you've got a recipe for a full-throttle meltdown.

“Is it done?” Troy says, bouncing on the sides of his feet. Annie smiles, feels slightly guilty for thinking he was washed up. 

“Almost,” Annie says. “But you need to wait for it to cool. Remember last time?” Having someone to take care of is nice. Troy might elbow Abed in the side if he misses a social cue; Abed takes all of the spiders outside, but Annie is the one who remembers rent day and laundry day and return the movies to the library day. She’s the glue to their… whatever two things you would glue together are. 

“Ah-huh,” Abed says, pointing to the scar on his tongue. “Annie, do you want real adult coffee?” Troy whispers. 

She shakes her head no before her traitor mouth can say yes. Coffee is a gateway drug. It is technically a stimulant. “Hot chocolate for me, please.”

“Go pick out a movie,” Troy says, pointing at the TV. They finally bought a chair for her, but Annie still likes to sit on the floor. There’s something about it that reminds her of being a kid. “Relax.” Troy says, in a tone that isn't entirely convincing, but his eyes are soft, and Annie's had a long day, so she goes. 

“Thanks, guys,” Annie says. She finds her favourite blanket being used as a flag on Abed’s bunk, and gets comfy on the floor. In high school, she’d pictured having a group of girls to do this with--watch chick flicks and read the sex advice columns from gossip magazines. In college, she got Britta, who would probably make them watch some tragic documentary and refuse to hug Annie when she inevitably cried, and Shirley, who’s nice, but probably hasn’t seen anything PG-13 since her sons were born. 

This isn’t bad, she thinks, as she hears Troy and Abed rift through the cabinets, their quiet murmurs unintelligible. Being taken care of is something Annie hasn’t had since she moved out, maybe even before that. She’d always thought family was something you only understood when you had kids and a husband, an intangible feeling that was incomprehensible to anyone else. This-- Troy and Annie and Abed in the morning; riding in the cart at the grocery store; having an audience for her fashion shows in the living room when she gets home from the mall-- feels more like family, though. Maybe family is a conscious choice you have to make, like getting dressed every day, or not going into pharmacies alone.

Love probably is too, Annie muses, as she browses through the study group’s communal Netflix. There’s plenty of chick flicks, but she turns on Die Hard instead, and lines the director’s commentary up for after, when they decide to forgo studying in favour of a Bruce Willis marathon. Love doesn’t have to mean picking people at dances or having sex with them on top of study-hall tables. Love is this: Troy, pouring boiling water into coffee mugs, because Abed hates especially hot things. Love is Annie watching Die Hard, even though they’ve seen it twelve times in the past month. Love is Abed buying Annie matching pajamas for her to wear with them, and remembering to buy a set for her favourite teddy bear.

* * *

Apparently, they own sprinkles, because there’s some snowflake shapes floating on the top of her hot chocolate, turning it a murky blue. Whipped cream, as well, because Troy has some on his nose. It’s fancy. 

“Oh, Die Hard,” Abed smiles. “Good pick, Annie!” He downs the last of his hot chocolate. “And great coffee, Troy.”

“Thank you, Abed.” Annie says, purposely ignoring the coffee remark. It would probably break Abed if he found out all adults don't put marshmallows in their coffee, not just Jeff and Britta. "This is nice."

Outside, raccoons and the old man from the floor above them are having sex. Not with each other (they’ve investigated), but loud enough that the ambient sounds of Nakatomi plaza being terrorized are interspersed with a “Harder!” or the occasional raccoon snarl. It’s nothing at all what Annie imagined for herself growing up: a two-bedroom house, on a nice street, preferably shared with a star from one of her mother’s soaps. This place is technically a one-bed, one-dreamatorium, with a leaky faucet and a spider problem, but it’s definitively cozier than the cold, sterile house in her imagination. 

Troy flicks off the light, and stretches his body out so that his head is right on Abed’s lap. The three of them are like a human triangle, some sort of impossibly possible entanglement. Annie’s always been good at math, but even she doesn’t get why this works: a girl recovering from being a recovering Adderall addict; someone who redefined the meaning of no crying in football; and a boy who is seemingly made of pillow stuffing and DSLR parts walk into a study group, and become something more than best friends. 

It doesn’t make sense, but with them, it doesn’t have to. Sometimes, a creaky apartment on the bad side of town and two dorky boys make more sense than the world ever will. Sometimes, study breaks are where you really learn. 

**Author's Note:**

> BTW I take prompts and fic requests! <3


End file.
